The Enslaved Elves of the North Pole
by StarlightWarrior
Summary: How did Santa get all those elves to work for him? Find out the shocking truth! (If you particularly like Santa, dwarves, or Elrond, meh, I don't care, flame if you want) My attempt at dry humor. Slightly AU. Evil Elrond OOC.
1. PROLOUGE

PROLOUGE: THE ORIGINS  
  
It is common knowledge that there were seven fictional dwarfs, namely Crazy, son of Loafer, Dopey, son of Deadbeat, Doc, son of Munchkin, Grumpy, son of Pouty, Angry, son of Elf- Liker, Sleepy, son of Drowsy, and Sleazy, son of Tyrant- Politician. The existence of the eighth dwarf is not commonly known. (Or at least not commonly known in connection with the other seven.) The eighth dwarf was named Santa, son of Claus. (A/N: They will be referred to by their first names from here on.)  
  
Santa, while not named after his vice as in the case of Dopey or Sleazy, was probably the worst of the dwarfs. He was also the most powerful, ruthless, and profit- oriented, as he owned the diamond mine his dwarfish compatriots slaved their lives away in.  
  
As the years went by, Santa's greediness increased. He started many other diamond mines, but still he wanted more. More diamonds, more money, more cheeseburgers, more cola! (A/N: How do you think he got that belly?)  
  
Anyway, in his quest for more profit, Santa found an old map detailing a great supply of diamonds to the west of his current operations. His eyes got very big and fascinated as he read it, and he dreamed of piles and piles of diamonds. The only problem was that it was in the middle of an elf reserve, where elves live in happiness and harmony with trees and nature. Those rotten elves.  
  
Then Santa, good clever dwarf that he was, decided to illegally enter the elf reserve by nightfall and scope it out for a good drilling spot. However, when he did this, the elves, since they have very good pointy ears, heard him, he was shot with an arrow and held for a ransom. Santa didn't mind, really; elfish prisons where actually nicer than normal dwarf quarters. Their only requirement was that he take a bath every day. But, rather than pay the ransom, a loyal army of dwarves headed by his best friends Angry and Sleazy invaded the elf sanctuary, cut down a lot of trees, destroyed much greenery, and saved him. Even though the dwarves were short and clumsy, they were very good fighters, and easily took over the territory belonging to the elves, who had not fought for a few thousand years. So in one fell swoop he was not only rescued, but had acquired new territory. Santa was very happy. He had only one problem: what to do with his elf prisoners?  
  
Then he came upon a wonderful idea. Wonderful to him, anyway. He could use them as slaves! Free, immortal labor for the mines! Life had never been this good.  
  
However, the elves did not appreciate this. They were ill suited to working in mines. They complained all day that their rations were not adequate, their pay was not good enough, they didn't get enough outdoor time, and on top of that, the dust in the mines discolored their perfect blond hair. They wanted to stage a protest. The gall of those pixies, thought Santa. Didn't they know they were slaves?  
  
Apparently they did not. Half the elves went on a hunger strike, and, being a extraordinarily cheap dwarf, Santa's only thought was that he would save 50% on rations. If extraordinarily cheap, he was not extraordinarily intelligent, though, and therefore it came as a surprise when he lost half his workforce. Apparently elf immorality did not cover hunger strikes.  
  
It was then that under the council of Sleazy and Angry that he moved his entire operation north. He only intended to move a few miles up the road, but, since the map was in elfish, and the elf he had read it to him lied, Santa ended up going on a long and arduous journey through frigid wasteland, accompanied by 500 or so complaining elves. Eventually he got sick of their whining about blisters and set up camp in the middle of an area now known as the North Pole.  
  
Because the visibility aboveground was terrible, and because it was his dwarfish instinct, he made the elves dig a deep hole. When he went inside this hole, he found it full of pliable substances adequate for making things, and immediately put up a sign saying 'PROPERTY OF SANTA SON OF CLAUS' and sent his elfish slaves to work. It wasn't diamonds, but it was better than nothing.  
  
Under these conditions, however, the elves and all their children became unnaturally short, and their voices became very high- pitched. Therefore, Santa had to make new uniforms for them. He gave them green clothes, pointy hats and pointy, bell- toed shoes, to match their ears. They complained greatly, but, when you work for a dwarf, you get what's on sale.  
  
After a few hundred years, he ran out of space to keep his trinkets. He had taken a lesson from the dwarves of Moria, and therefore hadn't dug too deep to avoid releasing a Balrog.  
  
Instead, he decided to steal some flying reindeer and give away his extra and defective toys & trinkets to little human children. Human children, he had heard, were always happy to get anything, even the flu or chicken pox.  
  
Santa son of Claus laughed a deep evil belly laugh. He intended for it to come out 'Mwa ha ha ha ha!' (everyone knows only old Romanian Counts can do this properly) but, because of his huge flabby stomach and neck, it sounded more like 'HO HO HO HO HO'- and thus the 'Santa Laugh' (also used by Jabba the Hut in Star Wars) was born.  
  
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Next chapter: Legolas comes across an old history, and finds out that the legend of the kidnapped elves was true. . . 


	2. Legolas Greenleaf's discovery

~~Ok, chapter two! Thank you very much to all the people who reviewed. Six already! A personal record! And all of them good! One thing I must note: I have never read or seen the Harry Potter books or movies, so, no House Elves. :( Sorry.~~  
  
CHAPTER 1: LEGOLAS GREENLEAF  
  
As the years passed, the dwarves mined all the diamonds out of the ground, sold all their shares, and gradually became extinct (on earth, anyway). This may be due to the lack of dwarven women, or possibly they all had a change of heart and decided to quit their greedy ways and retire to a peaceful, deserted monastery in Tibet. (A/N: I would bet on the former.)  
  
Eventually, the last place the dwarves remained strong was a dimension called Middle Earth. Here they continued mining for many years in Moria, until the Balrog, a bunch of Orcs, and a nasty cave troll killed most of them. Very bad for business.  
  
Anyway, in the dimension of Middle Earth also lived elves, full sized, blond, pointy eared elves, and, as they had much more gratuitous, Orc- inspired violence in their world than the Earth- elves, they were quite good and well- practiced archers, much to the dismay of the dwarves. However, after Sauron- the- evil- fiery- eyeball's ring was destroyed, the Orc population greatly decreased, and so did the violence. (Normally anything whose population decreased was put on the 'Endangered and Therefore Protected by Elves' list, but Orcs, when behaving in their normal fashion, endangered everything else, so nobody- not even the elves- wanted them around)  
  
In the chief residence of Middle Earth elves, Rivendell, an elf who had gone on the quest to destroy the ring walked through the forests. This forest was full of protected and painstakingly well- nurtured trees, as it belonged to Lord Elrond, chief of the Rivendell elves. Since the elf (whom, if you haven't guessed this by now, is named Legolas) was well liked by Elrond and his daughter, Arwen, he was allowed here.  
  
He looked around quite happily at the trees and the nearby brook, thinking how wonderful it all was, and started to sing:  
  
"Trees are such wonderful things. Of them I sing and sing and sing. I love trees, yes I do. I love trees, and soooo doooo youuuu!"  
  
He was interrupted by much clattering, stomping, and destruction of greenery behind him. Legolas turned around quickly, cringing, and saw something that would burn into his memory forever.  
  
Gimli. With an ax. An ax buried deep into one of Lord Elrond's prized saplings.  
  
"Hah, good thing you're here," said Gimli to a speechless Legolas. "I'm just going to haul off this firewood, and then we can roast the marshmallows I swiped from Aragorn. Just because he's king now, he thinks he's beneath sharing-"  
  
"Firewood!" cried Legolas, horrified. "Gimli, how could you -"  
  
Legolas was suddenly cut off by a group of elves wearing balaclavas and black ninja uniforms marked 'TPS" (for Tree Protection Squad). They leaped out from the treetops and disarmed Gimli, dragging him away as shouts of "Nooo!" and "Nobody drags a dwarf!" resonated in the background.  
  
Out from behind another tree stepped the ghost of Boromir. Legolas stared in shock.  
  
BOROMIR: Dear readers, I must hijack your attention for a minute to point out an injustice. Gimli could be locked up for years for Crimes against Trees. Do you know what the punishment for Crimes against Humanity is in Rivendell? Two months! Tell me where the reasoning is in that! It's crazy!"  
  
From behind the same tree stepped Dan Akroyd, wearing a white backpack- vacuum with a lot of tubes attached to it. He shot a stream of green light at Boromir, who was sucked kicking and screaming into the backpack. Dan Akroyd then gave Legolas a thumbs- up sign, cheerily announced "Ghost busted!" and disappeared.  
  
Legolas shook his head. "T'will be good to put all this behind me," he said. Then he remembered: he had left the gate to Elrond's forest open, and was therefore responsible for Gimli's 'incident'. In short, he was in deep trouble. Deep, deep, trouble. He was quite thankful Lord Elrond was on vacation as he sneaked back to the palace, where his guest quarters were.  
  
In the palace, as he was desperately trying to avoid the consequences of his actions, he had to evade the TPS patrols. (If he had been there longer than three days, he would have known this was unnecessary; the tree ninjas were actually very lazy while Elrond was absent. They ate lembas and played Parcheesi all day. The ones that arrested Gimli were new recruits, and therefore had not received the privilege to goof off yet.)  
  
Legolas gasped as he saw three of them (schlepping Parcheesi boards, of course) walking towards him. He darted off into a corner, and started to run down a dark hallway he had never noticed before. He obviously never listened to his mother's advice about such things.  
  
At the end of this hallway, he found a door with an inscription in Old Elvish. Technically only the family of Elrond was supposed to know this language, (A/N: I made this up- watch as I gloriously massacre canon!) but Arwen had taught him some of it. As far as he could make out it said, 'omnipotent nancing weasels of tomorrow', which he thought was complete idiocy. Legolas read it out loud, and the door opened. "Odd," he remarked. "I'm sure this happened in Moria. . ."  
  
He walked inside the room and saw many strange and wonderful things: A Star Trek COM badge & numerous phasers, a Jedi lightsaber, , even an electric can opener. Not that he knew what any of these things were- he just thought they looked amazing. He also noticed a large, garishly purple bookcase, and pulled a book off it.  
  
Legolas's eyes grew wide with shock as he read the text. It was a horrid account, of elves taken as slaves by an evil dwarf named Santa, son of Claus. The elves were captured and forced to work in mines deep in the middle of a frozen land known as 'The North Pole'. This land was full of ice and snow, and not one flower graced the ground. Legolas was close to tears; he could think of no worse a fate for elves. Except maybe denial of shampoo. He skipped to the bottom. In Elrond's handwriting, it read: 'A portal to this snow- kingdom lies behind the bookcase. Touch third panel.' A portal? What would Elrond want with that?  
  
Then it occurred to Legolas. He could travel there, liberate the slave- elves, and bring them back to Middle Earth! Without thinking further, he pushed the bookcase aside and went through.  
  
Legolas found himself standing in the middle of a large, dark room. At first it appeared it was empty, until he looked down, and saw many very small elves staring at him.  
  
"Who are you?" he asked.  
  
"We are the Pole elves," answered one extraordinarily short elf in ridiculous bell- toes shoes.  
  
"By Valar, you're the size of hobbits!" he remarked, before remembering his business and announced. "Anyway, I'm here to free you. Where is the dwarf?" They cackled and stared at him like he was insane.  
  
"Up there, in his meeting room," said another extraordinarily short elf. "With your master."  
  
"My master?"  
  
"Yes, another Tall One like you. Except he's older . . . and balder. . ."  
  
"No, he has hair," another little elf interrupted.  
  
"Three strands!" countered the first elf, and the other stuck his tongue out.  
  
Legolas, rather confused but still intending to free these brainwashed elves, ran lithely up the high steps to that evil Santa's lair, all the while dodging sharp objects the younger elves were tossing at him. He narrowly missed one of their projectiles as he pushed the door open, fully intending to avenge the kidnap and enslavement of his people when he saw something hideously shocking. It was-  
  
Lord Elrond, ruler of Rivendell, sitting and talking business with the most repulsive fiend ever known to elfkind, Santa, son of Claus. On top of that, he was wearing a gruesomely awful toupee.  
  
Legolas stared, his mouth gaping in shock. (Yes, he will need many, many therapy sessions when this is done.)  
  
~Next chapter: Elrond evil? Legolas's plans to free the Pole elves take on a whole new dimension. . . 


	3. In which Pole elven valley girl clones h

Chapter three! First, I again must thank all the people who reviewed (I'd put your names up, but 1. You know who you are, lol, and 2. I have a feeling most people just skip the names of reviewers when the author includes them in the fic.) Anyway, 13 reviews for only two chapters! Thanks! : D (And one thing: I suspected that 'gratuitous' was used wrongly, but it was such a funny word I couldn't resist.)  
  
But, this is a story, not an author's note, so, on with it!  
  
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"AHHHH! Lord Elrond! No. . . it can't be. . . you have better fashion sense than that. . . I didn't think you were so insecure about your appearance-" Legolas said, before recovering from toupee- that- looks- like- roadkill- shock, which affects elves very deeply. (if he had been a lesser elf he would have recoiled and started twitching uncontrollably on the floor.) "And for another thing, do you know who that IS?"  
  
"Yes, I do. Legolas, meet Santa, son of Claus, Santa, meet Legolas Greenleaf." Elrond said calmly. "Exactly how did you find my portal anyway?"  
  
"HO HO HO," Santa interrupted them, chuckling evilly. (Because of the great amount of fatty cholesterol he had ingested over the years, coupled with sitting around doing nothing but yell at elves all day, he became rather short of breath after three HO HO's.)  
  
Legolas looked at him, his eyes half- crossing with ire, before shooting an arrow at Santa, son of Claus, which hit him right in the shoulder. "Now," he said, "You shall come with me and face Elven justice!"  
  
"AHHK!" yelled Santa. "Stupid elves. . . always get the arthritic spot. . ." Then, shockingly, he pulled it out. Legolas turned green.  
  
"What? I deal with mad elves on a daily basis- I need protection. Arrow Guard 2000 provides that protection. Get Arrow Guard 2000 for the low, low price of 89.95 at your local Wal-Mart."  
  
"Santa, shut up. You sound like an infomercial," Elrond interjected. Then he turned to Legolas, adjusted his gruesome roadkill toupee and said, "OK, being a for girly show- off I can forgive you, for not objecting to Arwen marrying that Ranger I can forgive you, EVEN for stealing my braidmaster I can forgive you, but for shooting a business partner- that's crossing the line, Legolas." Elrond announced, screamed "HYAHH!" and promptly knocked Legolas out. The prince of Mirkwood's last conscious words were "Ahh. . . look at all the pretty junipers. . ."  
  
Elrond and Santa son of Claus both shrugged, and- after much arguing and agonizing- decided (with a smirk on Elrond's part) to tie him to a chair and leave him in the elf daycare center.  
  
The young elves were quite intrigued and amused by this, but their babysitters (three young female elves) made them stop poking his ears and pitching their defective toys at him, which they did when they were intrigued. Not that the baby- er, elfling- sitters didn't find this amusing, but they had more sinister plans on their minds.  
  
The first female elf, whose name happened to be Merenwen, looked slyly at her compatriots, who happened to be named Inwë and Alassea, and held up a green eye pencil. (A/N: Don't ask me where they got it- Pole elves are mysterious creatures.)  
  
"He's all ours, girls!" she squeaked excitedly, waving the eye pencil.  
  
"No way!" said Alassea, pulling out her own makeup kit. "He's, like, TOTALLY an autumn." (Apparently, they have yet to find a dimension not cursed with your token three dreaded valley girl clones.)  
  
"Actually, I think he's rather a winter," added Inwë.  
  
"He is like, SO a spring!" countered Merenwen.  
  
They were so busy arguing over the finer points of Legolas's complexion that they neglected to notice Alassea's little brother, Fingon, sneaking over, brandishing a Magic Marker. With a mischievous grin, Fingon proceeded to draw a pirate mustache on his sister's hostage, and- being a clever young elf- wrote 'LOSER' on his forehead, backwards, because he knew his sister and her friends wouldn't be able to resist pulling out a mirror.  
  
"FINGON!" Suddenly, he heard a menacing female elf's voice. His sister's. Oh-oh. "YOU RUINED OUR PROJECT! Go play with some sharp arrows! NOW!  
  
"Nuh- uh!" said Fingon, who was then dragged kicking and screaming into the play area by Alassea, who locked the door on him.  
  
"Now that the pest is gone," she said. "Back to the elf. Merenwen, bring chairs- he's kinda tall. Inwë, hand me the burnt sierra eyeliner."  
  
"But I told you, he's a winter!"  
  
Half an hour later, Alassea, Merenwen, and Inwë were STILL fighting over how to further disfigure the still- unconscious Legolas:  
  
"He's a spring: just admit it and we can get on with this!"  
  
"AUTUMN!"  
  
"I still think he's a winter."  
  
To cut a long story short, and yes, it would be a VERY long story, they decided to compromise, and listen to Merenwen, who happened to be playing with Legolas's bow & arrows at the time. This is because nothing speeds friendship, love, and self- sacrifice like a bow & arrow.  
  
Inwë and Alassea, with disgruntled expressions, pouted and applied cake- like foundation (to cover up Fingon's pirate face) for a triumphant Merenwen.  
  
"Ahh, man, I got makeup on my uniform!" Alassea exclaimed. "And I just got this! I had to make, like, 3000 toys!"  
  
"That's, like, awful! But I know this GREAT way to get makeup out of green- "  
  
They all stopped talking as Legolas whimpered and opened his green- eyeliner coated eyes.  
  
"Uh, hi?" said Inwë.  
  
"Like, go back to sleep, we're not done yet," Alassea cut in.  
  
Legolas looked at them strangely, shrugged, and, as he was suffering a headache anyway, complied.  
  
"Now let's give him dreadlocks!" squeaked Merenwen.  
  
"Yes! They are SO in."  
  
After they were done with him, he had a pirate mustache, 'RESOL' on his forehead, far too much foundation, garish green eyeliner, sparkly pink lipstick, and his formerly blond hair in dreadlocks. (They dyed it black and gave him a multi- colored Jamaican hat to complete the Rasta look.)  
  
"You can open your eyes now!" Merenwen said, her squeaky voice on overdrive, holding up a mirror.  
  
Legolas opened his eyes sleepily, before the hideous sight that was his face forced all the drowsiness out of his head. In fact, he probably wouldn't be able to sleep for another month.  
  
He gazed in horror at his reflection, then screamed like a little girl.  
  
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Next chapter: Legolas starts to doubt his mission. . .  
  
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P.S. Unlike Tolkien, I'm lazy, and all the elf names not from Lord of the Rings came from The Elvish Name Generator at . I did not make them up. I have no imagination.  
  
Also, Lord of the Rings is not mine, it is Tolkien's, even though I intend to build a time machine in the near future and AT LEAST procure the rights to Aragorn (yes, I have Tolkien envy) from him. 


	4. In which Pole Elves discover portals

~Wow, 32 reviews now! Thank you! I love you guys! I know I haven't updated in a while- I've been working on my other fics, both fan- and original, especially the World Domination Fund. But here it is, the fourth chapter you've all been waiting for! (I hope. . .)~  
  
When Legolas, (who had passed out again after seeing Merenwen's 'makeover'), came to, he was in the middle of another large room. However, though he was still sitting, he was no longer tied to the chair.  
  
Suddenly, a small hand covered his mouth. The hand smelled like mint candy canes. Mint made him sick. . . he was about to throw up when he was pulled out of the chair and dragged through a doorway. A few random Pole Elves with tags marked 'beautician 1' and 'beautician 2' then pulled a very confused Legolas to his feet and through another door, where they cleaned up the makeup, scrubbed off the marker, and put his hair back in proper braids. They even gave him a facial for good measure.  
  
"I don't know what they were thinking- he's definitely an AUTUMN."  
  
"No, he's a spring."  
  
"Are you blind? He's ABSOLUTELY an AUTUMN! Now hand me the exfoliant."  
  
After half an hour of this, one of them told pressed a button, which made the wall in front of them slide back. It revealed a round table with several Pole Elves in black suits, rather than gaudy green, sitting down. They were all watching a TV screen behind them, which showed a smiling little elf working on a toy, and singing:  
  
**  
  
'Elves are best when making toys  
  
For little human girls and boys  
  
Elves are here to serve you well  
  
And of your corporate dealings never tell!'  
  
Then a calm female voice, much like the one on PBS, intoned, "Claus TV. All propaganda, all the time."  
  
**  
  
Shaking his head, the head elf turned off the set and looked at Legolas.  
  
"Welcome," he said, in a decidedly un- squeaky voice. (Not that Legolas would know this, but he sounded rather like Arnold Shwarzenegger, even though he was under 3 feet tall) "You are standing in the HQ of Elves in Black, Escaping Division, or EIBED. We hear you want to help us."  
  
"Not anymore!" exclaimed Legolas. "All I wanted to do was free you from dwarven enslavement, and I've been pinched, poked, used for target practice, punched out, elf-napped, AND had my hair ruined! Although, that exfoliant you used was nice. . . where can I get some?"  
  
"In the gift shop, down the hall. But that's beside the point- we want you to comply with our wishes, or we will beat you with candycanes, tie you up with tinsel, and dump you in the reindeer feed silo."  
  
"Uh, director, we don't have a reindeer feed silo," announced the Elf- in- Black sitting next to him.  
  
"I know. It just sounded intimidating. But we have lots of tinsel and candycanes."  
  
Ugh. They were threatening him with candycanes. Just the thought of mint made Legolas turn green. . . he decided it would be best to 'comply with their wishes'.  
  
"So," continued the Director- elf, (who sounded like Shwarzenegger) "You will show us which portal is yours, and we will settle this matter."  
  
"Which portal? There's more than one?"  
  
"Yes. Let me show you." He then pressed another button, which made the wall peel back- again. Legolas gaped in shock. Apparently they did not have any real walls at the North Pole.  
  
They entered the next room, which was full of odd, shimmery circles in the walls. Legolas stared at one with fluctuating bright, acidic colors, and was immediately pulled back by the Director.  
  
"That is the portal to a dimension called, 'Woodstock.' Let me show you what happened to the last elf that went there." He pressed yet another button and a stasis unit descended from the roof and was set upright on the floor. Inside it there was a Pole Elf, wearing loose, multicolored clothing. He had a strange emblem on a necklace around his neck, he was holding two fingers up, and worse- the horror of it- he had hair on his face! Legolas shuddered just looking at the poor lad.  
  
"It is a 'hippie'. It is believed that the facial hair is called a 'beard' and is very contagious. He was one of our finest agents. When he came back he started calling everybody 'man', even though we are most clearly elves, and wanted to make peace with the dwarves." The director sighed with regret and closed his eyes. So did 50 other Pole Elves.  
  
"Uh, why are we standing here with our eyes closed?" asked one by the name of Fingolfin.  
  
"I dunno. The director did it," An elf beside him answered.  
  
"If the director jumped off a cliff, would you do that, too?"  
  
"Uhh. . . yep. OW! Did you really NEED to smack me upside the head?"  
  
"Uhh. . . yep."  
  
They were interrupted by the sound of footsteps, one nancing and one plodding. The plodding steps stopped every few seconds, with nancelike foot- tapping in the background.  
  
"It's Santa! Hide!" screamed Fingolfin.  
  
"Santa can't nance! He can't even walk!" said the second one.  
  
"Then it's Santa and the one with really gross hair!"  
  
"Yes! His hair IS repulsive. Actually, I think it's just the toupee. . ."  
  
"HIDE!"  
  
The elves all dived behind one of the several piles of gold, obviously made at their expense. Legolas, being rather tall, had to crouch to avoid being seen, several Pole Elves on top of him.  
  
Five minutes of plodding and frustrated nancing later, Elrond, (who had since ditched the toupee) and Santa, son of Claus (who was quite out of breath by then) walked into the portal room. They were in the middle of a discussion.  
  
"So I will have the Lightsabers by tomorrow?" Elrond asked, doing his freaky eyebrow thingTM.  
  
"Yes. My ungrateful laugh- stealing slug of a friend Jabba the Hutt knows a good smuggler. They will be in or he will suffer my dwarven wrath! HO HO HO!  
  
"And the Goa'uld larvae?" (A/N: If you have not watched Stargate SG-1, the following may not make much sense.)  
  
"Eh, I wouldn't count on those. That Lord Yu wants me to admit that he's a god. Stupid ungrateful system lord and I are in the middle of an email flame war right now- his vocabulary doesn't go farther than 'KREE!!!!!' though, so I have the upper hand. Heh heh." At least nobody could call him a pushover.  
  
"WELL, MAKE PEACE WITH HIM! I WANT MY SYMBIOTES!" Elrond hissed through his teeth.  
  
"That's going to be a little hard after calling his Jaffa slaves wussy."  
  
"AHHH!" Lord Elrond screamed. 4123 years old and he STILL acted like a spoiled child. 'By Valar,' Legolas thought, 'he's a shame to our race. "Apologize to Yu, you moronic dwarf!"  
  
"His name is Yu, just Yu, not Yu- Yu." Santa wheezed.  
  
"ARRGH! If I don't have my lightsabers AND symbiotes in two days, I'll sic Galadriel on you!" With that, Elrond stuck his hand in a portal and disappeared. Santa son of Claus muttered, "Heh. Like some nancing greenish female elf scares me," and slowly plodded out of the room.  
  
"Excellent. We have finally found the portal to your dimension! Now we shall ambush the dwarf, tie him up with tinsel, and lead the Pole Elves to freedom!" yelled the EIBED director, who happened to be sitting on Legolas's shoulder at the time. Legolas heartily agreed to this, if only because he was getting a cramp and the director's pointy little shoes were hurting him.  
  
Ten minutes later, after unsuccessfully trying to find Santa ('unsuccessfully' was not entirely true; the director suspected he had gone to take his monthly shower, but nobody really cared to check, for fear of what they might see), Legolas and a small army of Pole Elves marched into the working area. Numerous elves slaving over carpenter's benches looked up.  
  
"Pole Elves of the North Pole, unite!" announced Legolas. He climbed up unto a bench and was now menacingly waving a wooden doll. "Cast off your dwarven chains!"  
  
"Hey! Do you know how many hours I had to work for this dwarven chain?" a female Pole Elf answered, pulling on her necklace. "Let me tell you, buddy, these do not come cheap!"  
  
Legolas, shaking his head- and the doll- on overtime, continued, "No! Not the nice ones! The rhetorical-"  
  
"What, are you saying the jewelry the dwarves have us make is ugly?"  
  
"NO! It's actually very pretty-"  
  
"Then why should we cast it off? You're not making any sense."  
  
"Just. . . follow me," A frustrated Legolas said through his teeth. He climbed off the bench and motioned towards the exit. The Pole Elves shrugged, and, as a great number of their compatriots seemed to like the tall weirdo elf, followed him.  
  
In the portal room, the pole elves were amusing themselves by messing around in Santa's piles of gold, throwing things into the portals, and doing the hokey pokey when Legolas had an inspired idea  
  
"Director!" he announced. "If we can get them to all hold hands, and have the first one touch the Middle- Earth portal, we can get them all in at once!"  
  
The director looked at him. "Do you know how hard it will be to get 250 Pole elves to hold hands?"  
  
"It can't be that hard."  
  
"Prove it."  
  
Legolas managed to round up the Pole elves in front of the portal, and pulled out a candy bar, ensuring they would pay attention to him. He instructed them to stand in a straight line.  
  
"Now," he told them, "You need to hold each other's hands."  
  
"But I don't want to hold Tarí's hand! She has COOTIES!" whined a little male elf.  
  
"I do not!" answered Tarí.  
  
"Then hold this one's hand," said Legolas, picking up another small elf and placing him beside the whining one.  
  
"No! Gildor's hands are always sticky!"  
  
"Then hold TATHAR'S hand!" He begged in exasperation, pointing to another young male elf. Looking after these Pole Elves was worse than babysitting young hobbits. . .  
  
"If I do, can I have the candy bar?"  
  
Legolas looked at him strangely as the realization dawned on him. They were exactly like young hobbits! He had been doing it all wrong, appealing to their elven-ness, which they had a decided lack of. No wonder it had failed! All he had think of was what the hobbits would do!  
  
Then he had an inspired way to get them through the portal.  
  
"There's cake on the other side," he whispered to one young Pole elf, who proceeded to scream, "CAKE!" and dive through the portal, followed by 250 other drooling elves, including the company of EIBED. Apparently a black suit does not change the stomach of a Pole Elf.  
  
Legolas, quite satisfied, went through the portal. What he saw on the other side would have utterly shocked him if it would not be redundant to have him utterly shocked for the fourth time.  
  
Boromir again. Plus Aragorn and Arwen and Elrond.  
  
*********  
  
~~ I own nothing. If I did I'd be a Tolkien, or at least work for New Line studios. Also, any resemblance to the Elves in Black leather from Camilla Sandman's fic is entirely coincidental. I came up with EIBED before I read that. What can I say- great minds think alike. (j/k)  
  
IMPORTANT A/N: If you are a self- professed rabid Legolas fangirl, I may have a spot for you in the fic. A GOOD SENSE OF HUMOR IS REQUIRED- fangirl mocking follows. Just review and tell me, along with the name you'd like to have. I need at least ten. While not ENTIRLEY necessary for the story, I thought it might be fun. :) ~~ 


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